


Making it Better

by lajulie



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Indiana Jones References, Kissing, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Pre-ESB Kissing, Undercover as a Couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-06 09:13:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14638716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lajulie/pseuds/lajulie
Summary: On a mission for the Alliance, Han and Leia escape to a hotel room to patch up their injuries and take advantage of some...advanced medical treatment. Originally posted in two parts ("Making it better" and "In the still of the night") on Tumblr.





	1. Making it better

The lobby of the Chardaan Suites Hotel was relatively quiet for once, and Seban was idly flipping through the holochannels when the couple stumbled in.

They’d apparently come directly from one of the many Jubilee Balls taking place in the city this evening, judging from the formal jacket the petite woman had draped around her shoulders and the formalwear the tall, lanky man was sporting. And judging from the red lipstick marks dotting his face, neck, and forehead, their private party had already gotten started in the speeder.

“Reservation?” Seban asked.

“Uh….” the man looked a bit sheepish. “No. Know it’s a long shot, but you got anything for tonight? Damned Villa Downtown screwed up, gave away our room.”

Seban was pretty certain they were booked—most of the hotels were—but checked the registry anyway. “Ah, you’re in luck. Just had a cancellation.”

They completed the transaction, the young woman clutching her boyfriend’s? husband’s? lover’s? hand so tightly that he had to sign the registry with her hand over his own. “Sorry,” he told Saban, as she broke into giggles beside him, “she gets like this after a bit of bubbly.”

“Of course, sir,” Saban said, handing him the key card, the woman now clinging to his arm. _Well, at least someone’s going to get lucky tonight._

* * *

Leia didn’t stop giggling until after she had fallen safely into the room, dragging Han in after her and waiting to hear the click of the door closing behind them.

“You get the stuff?” he asked.

She rolled her eyes at him, pulling out from under Han’s jacket the medkit she’d just pilfered from the front desk. “Of course. How’s your hand?”

Han made a face, but shrugged. “I’ll live,” he said. “I’ll just send out my drunk girlfriend for some ice.”

“She will need it to chill that bubbly she likes so much,” Leia said, wincing a bit as she got up off the floor. “Come on, let’s see it.”

“Not until we fix up your shoulder, Miss Diving Into The Line of Fire,” he retorted, leading her into the ‘fresher.

* * *

Thankfully, there was bacta in the kit, but by the time they’d cleaned up the blaster wound on Leia’s shoulder (“just a graze,” she claimed), the shrapnel wound on Han’s forehead (conveniently covered up by the lipstick marks Leia had plastered across his face and neck), and the other wound on Han’s ribcage (another graze, thankfully), there wasn’t much left.

As Leia examined his other wounds, Han was on the verge of making a joke, but she stopped him. “If you suggest kissing them to make them better, I’ll slug you.”

They’d been pretending to be lovers for five days; evidently they’d turned into an old married couple in that time. An old, _sexless_ married couple.

“C’mon, Sweetheart,” he said. “Let’s go to bed.”

* * *

They’d each had their turn in the ‘fresher and donned their hotel-supplied robes when Leia finally got a good look at Han’s hand. It was swollen and badly bruised.

“Han!” she exclaimed. “That looks broken.”

“Nah,” he said, although it was throbbing with pain. “It’s fine.”

“Give it here,” she demanded, and at his stubborn look, she softened. “I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

She cradled his hand in both of hers, examining it carefully. Her hands were soft as they grazed over his skin, and it would have felt wonderful had his hand not been pulsing with pain. She carefully placed his hand back in his lap and picked up the hotel comm.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Ordering room service.”

* * *

After another round of her tipsy girlfriend act for the hotel, Leia had managed to secure a small bottle of whiskey and a bucket of ice. Han poured them each a glass while Leia wrapped his hand.

When she was done, he raised his glass. “To luck,” he said. “Not sure we were gonna pull it off.” Leia clinked his glass with hers, and they both drank.

“Think it was more than just luck,” she said. “Getting that kid to prank call the hotel and cancel that reservation was brilliant.”

“I do have a good idea now and then,” Han mock-boasted, and Leia laughed. He tipped his head toward hers. “That whole lovesick tipsy girlfriend bit was pretty smart, too.”

“To teamwork,” Leia proposed, and they clinked glasses again.

They drank for a couple of minutes in silence, Leia seemingly lost in thought. She sighed.

“I’m glad it was you on this mission,” she said. “I don’t know that anyone else would put up with me for so long.”

Han looked at her curiously. “Aw, you’re not so bad.” She gave him a dubious look, and he continued. “Okay, maybe the whole protocol thing was a little much at first, but—wait till I tell ‘em you actually know how to have _fun_!”

“They’ll never believe you,” Leia said dryly.

“Wait till I tell ‘em you’re kriffing hilarious,” Han countered.

“Maybe three people will believe you,” she insisted.

“I could tell ‘em you’re a damn badass,” he said grinning, “but I think they already know that.”

Leia grinned back at him. “If they’ve run a mission with me, they do,” she said, taking another slug of her drink, and Han laughed.

“The ice helping at all?” she asked.

 “A lot,” he said, holding up his hand. “Thanks.”

She took it in hers again, carefully, and to Han’s surprise, brought it to her lips and kissed it. Han raised an eyebrow at her.

“Making it better,” she explained, her eyes on him.

His eyes darted to the whiskey bottle, then back to her. “Do I need to cut you off?”

She shook her head, putting his hand back down and releasing it. “Not even tipsy,” she said, still looking at him.

He put down his glass. “Got anything I need to make better?” he asked.

She nodded, then turned up her palm. He took her arm and kissed the small wound just below her wrist.

It felt like the room had gotten so quiet all of a sudden. Han swallowed. “Anything else?”

Leia pointed at a spot on her collarbone, then another on her neck. Han kissed each of them softly.

He pulled back to look at her face again. She was still looking at him intently, her face smiling and serious at the same time.

Slowly, her finger moved to point at her lips.

Han leaned forward to make it better.


	2. In the still of the night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What came next, from Leia's POV.

Leia wasn’t afraid of silence. Silence had power, had heft. It was natural to want to fill that space, put more words into the air, but doing so only diminished the power of the words that had come before, of your actions. 

She’d been trying to talk herself out of this for days, she realized. And weeks, and months before that. So when the silence finally fell upon her mind in a hotel room on Chardaan, she let it lie.

They were sitting on the bed, enjoying an impromptu toast after patching up each other’s wounds. She’d kissed his injured hand, and he’d kissed the wound near her wrist. _To make it better_ , they’d said. 

She saw Han hesitate slightly before speaking again, and when he did, his voice was soft. “Anything else?”

She pointed to a small scrape on her collarbone, and he pressed his lips to it. Then her finger traveled to a spot on her neck, and his lips followed. His whiskers rasped softly against her, his breath warm.

The thoughts in Leia’s head had been racing, shouting at her for days. Now they were, at last, as quiet as the room around them. You could hear a pin drop.

Han pulled back, looking at her, and the room seemed to get even quieter, if that were possible. She pointed at her lips, and as he leaned in, her mind had only one word to say.

_Yes._

The kiss started out gentle, slow, not that different than the chaste kisses they’d shared as they’d posed as a couple on-planet for the Jubilee celebrations over the last few days. But it continued, lingered, intensified, and Leia let herself fall into it. His lips were soft, and tasted of whiskey. The whisper of their lips moving together remained the only sound in the room.

After a few minutes, he pulled back slightly to look at her again. He looked oddly serious, and Leia almost laughed to see him this way. “Uh,” he began.

She looked at him, not speaking.

“Don’t mean to get all heavy or anything here, but, ah—we still pretending?” he asked. Leia wanted to kiss him again just for how vulnerable he looked in that moment, for that slip in his bluster. 

Instead, she smiled, leaning in so that she was close to his lips again. “No,” she said.

It was like she had released a spring. Han closed the gap between them, cupping the back of her head in his good hand and pulling her closer with the other as he kissed her. Leia matched his intensity, meeting his kiss with hers, pressing her body to his, her mind still singing one word, _Yes_.

Then his lips were on her neck again, and the _yes_ was a breathless whisper from her mouth as he trailed down her collarbone, pulling back her bathrobe to reveal her shoulder. “This all right?” he asked, looking up from his careful kisses around her blaster burn and meeting her eyes again.

“Yes,” she said, pushing the robe further open herself. She saw his breath catch slightly and rose up to kiss him again.

It was like the language they used in the field, the looks and actions that conveyed everything that needed to be said. _Let’s go for it. I trust you. I’ve got your back._

And soon, there were more words, as they navigated carefully around each other’s injuries, as they traveled this new territory together. _This okay? Yes. Oh, yes. That hurt you? No, I’m okay. Ooh, watch the hand. Right, sorry. Oh yes, please. Right there. More. Please. Han. Leia. Oh, Gods. Yes. Oh—_

Then another near-silence, just the sound of their breathing, her head resting on Han’s chest, his good hand stroking her hair. _We’re not pretending anymore_ , she remembered. She should be afraid of that thought. But for now she let it go, resting in the silence.


End file.
